


Cracked Emerald

by LizzyLovesPink



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Age Difference, All of that is as consensual as it can be being underage, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Bathtub Sex, Breast Play, Class Differences, Coercion, Crossdressing, Cunnilingus, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Doggy Style, Dubious Consent, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inspired by Vicious, Inspired by a Hentai, Irish oc, Master/Servant, Melodrama, Misogyny, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Man, One Shot, Oral Sex, POV Multiple, Period Typical Attitudes, Porn With Plot, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Racism, Rape, Rough Sex, Sexism, Shotacon, Sickfic, Sort-of, The non-con stuff is not for the main couple by the way, Typhoid Fever, Underage Sex, Underwater Sex, Unhygienic Sexual Practices, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Victorian era, Voyeurism, Xenophobia, blowjob, erotic eating, foodplay, trap, twist ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26518762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzyLovesPink/pseuds/LizzyLovesPink
Summary: After the untimely death of his mother, Henry and his nanny Patricia move to his father's manor to help Henry train for being the next heir. However, Baron Whitehall is a cruel and cold man who abuses his servants, neglects his son, and threatens to throw Patricia out on the streets, forcing Henry to prove to his father how much of a man he truly is, thus starting his and Patricia's illicit love affair. Patricia is only agreeing due to his influence over her and instead starts to befriend the sad and lonely maid who shares her laundry duties. However, nothing stays a proper secret for long in the Whitehall manor....Shota/Oneesan smut based on the hentai Vicious; read the tags and enjoy!
Relationships: Confident and Polite Irish Nanny & Shy and Cautious British Maid, Confident and Polite Irish Nanny/Her Young Crossdressing Charge, Original Female Character & Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Shy and Cautious British Maid/Overbearing and Jerkish Baron
Kudos: 13





	Cracked Emerald

The only people who were still left at the burial grounds were in the middle of leaving, giving Henry strange looks as he remained standing over the spot his mother's coffin was lowered into just a few hours prior. He stood over it, his tears dry, his black lacy gown chaffing and his lacy veil blowing into his face. He still remembered that horrified scream as his mother tried to regain her balance, and all of the blood that poured from her as she hit the floor from the top of the stairs. At that point, he just stood at the top, horrified, tears forming in his eyes, as he tried to properly process what had happened. The wind howled outside and yet he remained plastered to the stairs before he fell backward and everything went black.

"I heard the baron could not come because of work," A few gossipy nobles loudly whispered as they walked past, making sure Henry heard them. He barely registered their words and kept staring down at the ground, thinking of his mother. She was dressed in her favourite white gown with her hair woven through with flowers like that famous painting of Ophelia drowning while she sung and weaved flowers. Societal norms dictated Henry would get a lock of her hair to wear around his neck, but he didn't want that. He only wanted his mother to remain in his memory and not on his physical person. Her beautiful hair deserved to be left untouched on her scalp.

"My lord, I think it's time for us to leave," Ms. Patricia warned him gently, placing her hand on his shoulder. She was a pretty brunette with freckles and brown eyes and a hint of Irish roots; her looks nicely contrasted with Henry's emerald eyes and curly light brown hair and fully-English blood. "Your father wants you home by a certain time,"

Henry gave her a vacant look. "Yes. Let us head home then. I mean...to our new home," He walked ahead of her towards the carriage, and she followed after slowly. She'd never admit it, but her charge had her concerned already. He was incredibly close to his mother and she knew her untimely death would likely seed something dangerous in him. It was a well-known fact of boys who lacked maternal influence in their life. Naturally, she would do everything in her power to placate him, but it was easier said than done. He was getting to be at an age where such connections to a nanny such as herself were seen as immature and coddled. Still, he and the late baroness had been the only family she had known for almost thirteen years.

She sat politely across from him in the carriage and stared quietly out the window, saying nothing as Henry looked vacantly down at his shoes.

*  
When they arrived at Baron Whitehall's manor, the mood became sullen and dark as Ms. Patricia was asked personally by the head maid to help the other servants unpack Henry's items while the preteen in question went alone to greet his father. Patricia nodded slowly; she was just a nanny but there was no reason why she couldn't help. She fell into the rhythm of another maid her age; a nineteen-year-old with black hair and sad aqua eyes named Mary. "I'm very happy to have another female worker here," She smiled softly at Patricia.

"But surely there are plenty other maids here like you?" Patricia asked Mary in confusion.

"Maids, yes, but they are all far older than myself. I can never relate to them. To have another young lady like yourself here would be very good for me," A sad smile. Patricia gave her usual cheerful one back as they continued to work, unpacking Henry's items and setting them down neatly in his room. Patricia found herself solely responsible for her charge's clothing, which she did not mind in the slightest. She folded them with painstaking care and hung the dresses up in his wardrobe and placed the accessories neatly on his dresser. She found herself enjoying the monotonous calm of the work and admiring the beauty of Henry's various gowns. Yes, gowns, for despite his age and far past the age of being breeched, Henry still had a love of feminine clothing and accessories. Living with only his mother and Patricia might not have helped in that regard, but despite his wealth he was mainly kept sheltered from the prejudices of the world, so the late baroness entertained herself by sewing gowns for Henry. He was fond of pastel colours regardless of the season, so many of his dresses were in blues, pinks, yellows, greens, lavenders, and a few pale whites. Greys snuck in there on occasion in terms of plain day-dresses, and of course his current mourning gown was the only black thing he owned and wasn't made by his mother, rather, Patricia bought it in a rush from a tailor who had a few ready-made alongside the veiled hat.

"Have you worked here long?" Patricia asked kindly, stepping back from the wardrobe after she closed it. Mary looked startled by the sudden question before she calmed.

"A year or so, which isn't very long for a maid. I'm purely a laundry maid," She tucked some loose strands of hair nervously behind her ear. "So forgive my hesitance at speaking to you,"

Ms. Patricia nodded and faltered a bit. A nanny would be high in comparison to roles such as a laundry maid, wouldn't she? At the very least above a laundry maid, if not the parlor or lady's maid. Nannies still weren't expected to be seen by polite company, but their existence was far more readily acknowledged than other maids or servants. At the baroness' manor, she was the only servant to speak of and did everything she could that the baroness didn't do herself. She was treated on equal terms by the baroness; Bridget, as well as by Henry. She cast her head down.

"Sorry for being rash. Before, I was the only servant so my manners concerning them are likely rusty to being entirely non-existent,"

"It's fine. We are of the same age, so surely it wouldn't be extremely queer for us to be together," Mary smiled. "As long as we do not speak on the job,"

Patricia nodded and took one last look around the room, wondering if she was to have her own room or board with the other maids. She wasn't opposed to any decision; she would've liked a room on her own for the quiet but also wouldn't mind having a room with Mary. She seemed shy and sad and perhaps just needed a friend her age to help her out with things.

"Miss, your presence has been requested at the dinner table," The butler came in and bowed a bit, speaking in a formal tone.

"With the baron?" Patricia asked in slight disbelief before she caught herself. To her, it just seemed strange he'd invite her, but perhaps he wanted to make a good first impression on the woman who helped raise his future heir. With a curtsy, she started to leave before she paused. "Do I have a room of my own where my items have been delivered? I need to look presentable,"

"Of course," The butler bowed again and led Patricia up the stairs to a small alcove in the attic; plain and wooden but for a small bed, nightstand, oil lamp, and a pitcher and basin for washing up. On the bed was her small bag and she thanked the butler before she pulled her apron off, hanging it up neatly on a bed post before she pulled her braid up into a tight bun. In her bag was a very small collection of brooches Henry got for her in various colours. She rarely had a chance to wear them, but thought tonight would be a good night to try, as the baron likely wanted her to have some sense of decency. She selected a dark purple one to match her black mourning dress; at the request of Henry, of course. She briefly wondered if purple was the correct colour to wear before remembering servants very rarely entered mourning for their employers, so she finally reasoned if the baron wished for her to take it off, then she would.

Patricia headed down to the table silently and curtsied gracefully upon seeing the baron, not wanting to gaze into his stern eyes.

"Patricia," He greeted in a cold tone, but as courtesy said, she ignored him and sat down politely.

"Big Sister! I'm so happy you decided to come!" Henry beamed eagerly, his food uneaten on his plate. Patricia couldn't help but to smile at him and his eagerness. His eyes still seemed sad but his overall mood was cheery and she was glad for it, even to the point of using his affectionate nickname for her. Since she had been his nanny since birth, he had taken to seeing her as his big sister since he had no other siblings, and Patricia never stopped him from it. After all, it was harmless, and she did her job as a nanny well. Despite him still being in mourning, he had changed into a knee-long pink gown and a matching bow in his hair.

"I wouldn't decline an order from you, my lord," She promised.

"Henry, you really must stop entertaining such childish fantasies," The baron responded calmly as Patricia began eating. "You are my sole heir and I cannot have one who still trails behind his nanny in a daze. Nor can I have an heir who still dresses like a young girl. Under my roof, you _will_ dress like a man, and act like one too. You are nearly thirteen, this behavior is unbecoming and quite disgusting,"

Henry said nothing, taking to stabbing the food on his plate in annoyance.

"In a few weeks, Patricia will be let go. I do not care how you go about it, but do it," Baron Whitehall continued.

"Sir, if I may give you some advice-" Patricia begun, only to flinch when he slammed his fist down on the table.

"No, you may not! You are just his nanny, a position that will not exist in this household come next month! Stay silent!" He barked.

She nodded meekly, keeping her attention trained on her plate. Henry stared at her in concern, his eyes wide.

"Henry, go to bed. I need you awake early for lessons," Baron Whitehall snapped at Henry, who nodded carefully.

"But-!"

"No arguments!"

"Okay....good night, Big Sister..." He mumbled quietly and left the table, placing his silverware down and walking away, his boots clacking on the hard floor. Patricia braved a glance at Baron Whitehall, who had continued eating.

"Sir, I think being so harsh on Lord Henry so soon after his mother's untimely death-"

"Did I not tell you to be silent? In my house, you live by my rules! My wife might've treated you as an equal despite your inferior status, but there shall be none of that here. It was a mistake in my opinion. Now you think you can freely place your input on the affairs of nobles when you're just a lowly servant, and from Ireland at that,"

Patricia silenced herself, biting her lip slightly. She wished her Irish roots wouldn't have played any part in the discussion, for despite them she had been born and raised in the British Empire. The only indication she even was Irish aside from her appearance was her name and her current position, as it was famously easy for Irishwomen to get jobs as nannies for members of nobility and even royalty. Patricia had never questioned it and at the time, despite her very young age, easily settled into the routine and was very happy she worked for such a kind employer.

"Leave my table. I do not want to see you anymore,"

"But Sir-"

"Question my orders one more time, Patricia. I will throw you out this very night, with nothing but the clothes on your back,"

She silenced herself once more and bowed her head, curtsying and heading to bed. She found herself not particularly hungry but still worrying about Henry. She supposed it was just in her nature to do so, especially now that she had met his father in the flesh. She had heard Baron Whitehall was a strict and formal man, very traditional and not very progressive, which was why his late wife had opted to raise Henry solely on her own until he was of age, but she had no idea he was that cruel, especially to his own son. It was true Henry had a few...particularities, but what young lord didn't? She neither fussed over nor encouraged them, just letting them run their course in the hopes he'd fully outgrow them by late-teenagehood.

Patricia fell asleep then, feeling slightly troubled but hoping everything would manage to work out.

*

"Big Sister! Big Sister!"

It had been nearly a month since the two had arrived to Baron Whitehall's manor, and since then Patricia had found herself increasingly busy with new duties that kept her away from Henry far more than she'd like. She wasn't ignorant, she knew he was taking lessons on noble....things, what exactly it was nobles did Patricia wasn't entirely sure nor did she care to ever find out, but the point remained she expected him to be at least somewhat busy, but they didn't even eat together anymore. So she was surprised when during one of her rare breaks in the garden, she heard his telltale voice ringing out towards her.

"Big Sister! Big Sister!"

"Lord Henry!" She responded, gasping when he suddenly plowed into her, hugging her tightly.

"Did you miss me?" He wore a pale yellow gown this time with a lacy bow in the back of his hair, along with the usual brown boots and white stockings.

"I did, I have not seen you in some time. But surely you have other things to be doing? What of your lessons?" She gently pulled him off and started to scold him.

"They're really boring though," He instantly pouted, his famous childish pout that always got him what he wanted as a child. "So, I snuck out! Don't tell anyone!"

"Lord Henry, that is not very becoming of a young lord nor heir," She scolded more firmly. It was one thing for him to intentionally get out of meeting with his father; Patricia understood that quite well, but actual lessons she would not allow. His education on actual noble topics had been severely lacking from his years spent with the late baroness so she knew he needed a lot of catch-up to do.

"And? Now you're starting to sound like Father." He wandered down the path, kicking up dirt with his boots. "Ever since I got here he has dictated my life, including when I can go to bed! And when I eat and what I eat, now he's starting to think of the same thing but with my outfits!"

"He just wants what is best for you," Patricia offered, since indeed, he may be strict and a tad cruel, but maybe he really did know what was best for Henry in the end. Having a nanny was only coddling him.

"So, you make any friends here? Father has a huge array of servants here, so much! I want to learn all of their names so it'll be easy for me to keep track when I become Baron!" Henry said eagerly. Patricia shook her head, caught off-guard by the suddenness of his question. Indeed, Mary had been a source of comfort to her, but Patricia felt it was too early to consider them friends, as Mary was strictly a laundry maid, while Patricia was....a nanny in-name-only who performed parlor duties. "Awww, that's a shame. Maybe you'll make a friend here!"

"I certainly hope so, my lord. Despite the time I spent with your late mother and the fun and comfort I enjoyed, I now realize the one thing that was missing was a companion for me. I hope here I will get that," She smiled at him.

"Father's laundry-maid is the same age as you, I think. You think she's on break too? Go look for her!" He suddenly gasped and ran off, heading back towards the house. Patricia didn't question it; she figured he heard someone calling for him. Seeing if Mary was on break as well seemed like a good idea, so eagerly she headed back inside the house and first checked the servants' quarters before heading upstairs a bit more reluctantly.

"Hello? Mary?" She looked around, gasping as Mary nearly tumbled out of the baron's study, looking disheveled and frightened. "Mary!"

"Ms. Patricia!" Mary gasped, clutching at her chest. "I-I was cleaning in there, in the study, but then..!" She trailed off and looked down at the ground, too upset to continue. Patricia frowned, knowing there was more to the story but ultimately deciding not to pursue it. Instead, she took Mary's hands.

"A loud noise spooked you," She suggested, and Mary slowly nodded.

"A loud noise spooked me...must've been a maid downstairs nearly dropping something," They both knew it wasn't the truth, but it seemed to satisfy Mary for the time being. Patricia led her down to the servants' quarters and sat down with her, holding each other's hands and saying nothing for a long time.

*

Mary spent the next few days quietly doing her duties, hoping whatever transgression she performed unknowingly the last time would be forgiven and forgotten by Baron Whitehall, but when he called her into his study a few days later, she knew she wasn't as lucky.

"You sent for me, my lord?" She asked shyly. The baron looked up from his papers.

"Yes. I have noticed lately you've been growing very close to that Irishwoman,"

"Ms. Patricia is very kind and gentle to me," Mary blushed a bit, still looking down at the ground, fiddling with her apron.

"She will no longer be of service to us in a few weeks. I hope you enjoyed your time with her,"

"W-What? Pardon me, my lord, but why? She's-"

"A useless Irish bitch at the end of the day. My son trails after her like a lovesick puppy and even you have fallen victim to her charms. You take more breaks and do your work sloppily," He stood up and walked towards her, making Mary falter a bit and back up. "Do you know what that means?"

Mary didn't respond, only glanced away. He shoved her onto the floor and tugged at her buttons, making the back of her dress slip down. She tried to cover herself up in vain even as he grabbed her hair and forced her into a kneeling position, making her yelp in pain. She pressed her hands against the wall as he pulled up the remainder of her dress, forcing her legs open and making her eyes well up with tears.

"P-Please...not this again..." She begged, knowing it was futile. Baron Whitehall did what he wanted, when he wanted, with no complaints from the staff. She cried out when she felt his member be shoved into her, making her abdomen burn in pain. She bunched her hands into fists, pressing her knuckles up against the wall hard as she slowly moved her hips around, feeling him thrust into her more and more.

"At the very least, you could scream like the whore you are," The baron scolded, and though she didn't want to, Mary still complied, uttering soft moans as her face burned red. At one point he grabbed hold of her hair and tugged it hard, making her cry in genuine pain as she felt her head pulled back.

After what felt like an eternity, she felt Baron Whitehall release himself into her and dropped her, letting her crumble onto the floor. She laid there, panting, trying to gather up her dress in spite of it.

"That is where you belong. Go run along to your Irish bitch now," He spat, making Mary wince. She suddenly felt terror at the thought of Baron Whitehall using Ms. Patricia to sate his own desires just like her. She deeply hoped that wasn't true; she didn't deserve it like she felt she herself did. She was clumsy and dawdled too much, while Ms. Patricia seemed to be a good and gentle soul who respected her superiors and did her work without question.

Little did either of them know, however, that Henry was peeking through the doorway, secretly watching them with a horrified look on his face.

*

Another month had passed and made way for the rainy days and nights of spring England was so famous for. Weather like that often made Patricia long for her Irish home; she had never lived there but her grandparents told her about it for the few years she lived with them and she was smitten with their idealized version of rolling green hills, as green and lush as a gem, clear blue skies of vibrant cerulean, and golden sunshine richer than any pot of gold. It sounded like a world that fairies would live in happily and perfectly, helping out humans who were kind to them and scorning those who weren't.

She was sitting in bed; her room offered no window but she could hear the rain pounding hard on the roof and the wind harshly blowing by and the crack of thunder that threatened to split her head in half. She had finished buttoning up her nightgown earlier, a thick and plain thing devoid of any decorations, and settled herself in bed with a collection of foreign fairy-tales one of the older maids had given to her. She assumed it had been on a whim due to her age, but now found herself getting invested in the charming and idealistic stories of magic and fairies and thought fondly back to the days where she'd read Henry such tales before bedtime. She had seen Henry only once that day; she was sent to clear up after dinner and he noticeably winced at the first flash of lighting in the windows and hurried off to bed. She would've gone after him if the baron hadn't still been there, staring at her coldly in a way that made her quickly continue her task and head to bed herself.

A loud crash of thunder coupled with urgent knocking on her door made her jump and fall out of her fairytale-land, so curiously she closed the book and headed to the door, assuming it was Mary.

"Mary?" She asked, but the knocking continued. She pulled the door open and gasped as Henry fell into her arms, dressed in a long frilly nightgown of his own with a matching bonnet.

"Big Sister, the storm is terrifying! I...I can't sleep!" He sobbed.

"Does Baron Whitehall know you're here?" She asked cautiously, relaxing and shutting the door when Henry shook his head.

"Please don't tell him..." He cried as Patricia sat him down on his bed.

"I wouldn't tell a soul, my lord!"

"Oh, thank you! I want to sleep here tonight! Please?" He begged, his wide eyes hopeful and full of tears.

"Of course," She smiled and let him hug her tightly, snuggling up closely to her. She placed a hand on his head. She recalled his childhood easily; he didn't really start to notice her presence until he was about four or five, but remained close to her all the same. She still remembered the fluffy brown bear he carried around him constantly; now abandoned due to age, but his closest companion when he was younger. His curls were more noticeable and he always had a curious expression on his face, silently demanding to know where everyone was going and what they were doing. He wore dresses even then, fancier and flouncier and embroidered with small details lovingly by the late baroness. Even now, at twelve, he wore gowns despite being breeched years ago and still remained curious, his eyes widening whenever he tried to figure something out.

"Big Sister? What are you thinking of?" He asked curiously, blinking his eyes at her.

"Oh, just how cute you were as a child. You looked like a little doll," Patricia gave him a reassuring smile.

"Aw! Am I not cute anymore?" He pouted at her.

"No, you're still cute. But now you look more like a young man,"

"Ah, don't ever say that! Father's influence is rubbing off on you! I don't want to hear about being a young man! I'm not ready yet!" He cried. "I want to be a little doll again!"

Patricia stared at him levelly until he buried his face into her chest again.

"You can always be a little doll with me, my lord," She finally reassured him.

"Yes, but for how long? Father is a terrible prick. He thinks women are just tools to be used. I see him sometimes with that laundry maid...he calls her such horrible names. And you...he thinks you're inferior because you're foreign and my nanny!"

Patricia kept gently rubbing his back.

"He didn't attend Mother's funeral...I don't think he ever loved her, you know. Why do you think they lived apart?" Another crash of thunder and he whimpered, burying himself even further in her arms. "He doesn't care about me as a person...he only cares about his wealth...I hate him..."

She said nothing, allowing him to vent. Baron Whitehall was a cruel man, even crueler than she once thought, but it was never a servant's place to speak ill of their employer, no matter what the context was. Even Henry venting like this she was afraid of getting in trouble for.

"If he wants me to be a man so badly...." Henry trailed off and scooted further away from Patricia, making her tilt her head in curiosity.

"My lord-?"

She barely had a chance to react as he suddenly kissed her, making her eyes widen. He was very inexperienced but so was she; so they awkwardly kissed for a few moments before he stuck his tongue in and wrapped his arms around her. He closed his eyes and pressed his body up against her and she shyly wrapped her arms around his waist, feeling the nimble shape to them.

"I'll make myself a man," He finished in a determined voice, spit attached to their lips as he pulled away. He slowly climbed off the bed and untied his bonnet, placing it on the ground behind him, then he started slowly unbuttoning his nightgown. It draped lower and lower on his shoulder until he undid the last button, letting the dress fall entirely to the ground, revealing his pale body. He had no muscle and had a very small, lithe, and childish body, which made it easier for him to fit into his beloved dresses, but his member was of average-length and starting to rise. Patricia blushed a bit; unashamed, as she helped him bathe and dress as a child, but this was...different. Something had definitely changed in Henry.

"My lord, I don't think-" She tried to scold him, but he silenced her with another kiss as he climbed on top of her and slowly rubbed their crotches together. She felt his member poke at the fabric of her nightgown and blushed heavier when his hands found her small breasts, bound by nothing but the fabric of her nightgown. A small moan escaped her as he gently squeezed and fondled them, wincing in pain when he suddenly pinched at her nipple too hard on accident. She expected him to apologize, but when she looked into his eyes, she realized she didn't recognize her beloved cheerful Henry. At the moment, this was a desperate boy wanting to prove himself a man for his father.

He continued squeezing her breasts, unbuttoning her nightgown and making the mounds pop out, and without a word, started sucking on one of her nipples while he squeezed and played with the other one. She trembled a bit and covered her mouth, afraid of moaning loudly and attracting attention. No matter who came up to check on them, it wouldn't end well. Henry kept at it, staring at her with a darkly innocent look in his eyes before switching over to the other breast. She felt herself get a bit wet especially as he fully hardened, pressing his member into the fabric covering her crotch.

"M-My lord...!" She gasped out, biting down on her hand. He smiled at her and yanked up her nightgown, revealing her glistening flower. He waited, unsure of what to do before he crawled over and gently rubbed the inside of it, making her tremble more and tightly clutch onto the bedsheets. He smiled more upon seeing her reaction and started rubbing her with two fingers, which made her moisten more. He then spread her legs out a bit and leaned in, slowly starting to lick her, which made her gasp out a moan involuntarily. "P-Please...my lord..." She gasped as he licked faster. She trembled even more as he suddenly stopped and helped her lie down, her hair becoming undone.

"I don't know much about this, but.." He cut himself off and slowly inserted himself inside of her, making her bite her lip. He wasn't excessively big nor did he force himself in her, it was just a shock to a virgin such as herself. She gripped the bedsheets more as he gently thrust into her, giving her a kiss every time he did so. He moaned into her mouth in surprise and pulled out; Patricia assumed that due to his age he barely had anything inside of him, but it mattered little. She certainly had no plans to get impregnated by him!

Afterwards, Patricia redressed herself to the best of her ability while Henry remained nude and just snuggled up close next to her in bed. Despite herself, she very slowly returned the snuggles, holding him close and feeling his warmth until she herself fell asleep.

*

"You will be on laundry duty alongside Mary," The butler informed her the next morning after breakfast. Patricia looked up as he started to leave.

"Pardon me, sir, but normally I do odd jobs around the manor, mainly parlor work," She informed him carefully, placing a hand on her chest.

"I am aware of that, Miss, however, I have received orders from his grace that you are to be put on laundry services for the next few weeks until you are permanently retired. Nothing against you, but he told me that the young lord will not be needing the services of a nanny any longer. He said you would have better use down in the laundryroom," The butler responded, not looking back at her. "Unless you would prefer to take it up with his grace personally?"

Patricia shook her head rapidly, taking one of the baskets in her hands. "No, I am perfectly fine with this. Thank you," She curtsied and hurried after Mary, who smiled when Patricia joined her in the laundry room.

"Have you ever done laundry before?" Mary asked curiously, folding some linens up.

"Only the young lord's."

"Ah, so you already have some experience! That is good, I won't have to teach you very much!" Mary's gown was far different from Patricia's; wearing a starched black gown that covered everything up aside from the soles of her heavy boots, a full-body lacy white apron, and her hair in a tight braid. Patricia wore black, but her gown was thinner and the blouse was patterned with lace going up the front of it. Not to mention the aqua brooch she pinned there that morning and her small pearl studs to look presentable. She looked away awkwardly when she set the basket down, suddenly worrying that her clothes were too fancy for such a job.

The two worked steadily, Mary chatting away eagerly with Patricia. She found herself easily settling into the tasks given and Henry never once crossed her mind, instead, she started to amuse the thought of being Mary's friend. It was a thought that was on her mind often, but now it was starting to take form in a more concrete idea.

In fact, after they finished their work that day, Patricia suggested the two make something in the kitchen and eat it out in the garden to enjoy the pleasant day.

"I am not very skilled in cooking," Mary began to decline before Patricia took her hands.

"Nonsense. We can bake something simple that wouldn't take much time at all. How about some strawberry tarts?"

"Alright," Mary still seemed a bit reluctant but allowed Patricia to guide her into the warm kitchen which was still abuzz with servants trying to cook for that night's dinner. Patricia managed to get them a small corner and made a small bowl of cream along with some fresh strawberries, and the two sat down outside in the garden, not caring about the dirt.

"Have you ever had strawberries and cream before?" Patricia asked curiously, dipping her own in the cream and popping it into her mouth. Mary shook her head, a bit more hesitant as she slowly did the same, trying to mimic Patricia.

"Never had the time or interest to...what I eat is more than enough,"

"Sometimes it's good to indulge yourself a little," Patricia thought of the various treats Bridget Whitehall would bake for both her and Henry to enjoy; Henry naturally enjoyed them more than her but she would indulge to make Bridget happy. Her favourite were caramel candies and sticks of dried maple syrup, but she also loved making fruit tarts, which is how Patricia discovered a love of strawberry shortcakes. It dawned on her then she had very little in the way of actual treats with her meals ever since arriving. Her meals were certainly more filling than the usual fare served to servants, but even then, that meant an extra helping of potatoes or chicken, no actual desserts.

"What are you thinking of?" Mary asked curiously, and Patricia shook her head.

"I suppose it just dawned on me how much different this work environment is from my previous one,"

Mary remained silent, her eyes shimmering. Patricia obliged the silence and continued eating the strawberries, realizing she had eaten the most while Mary had only eaten two or three during their entire conversation. She frowned upon realization but didn't wish to press it. After all, forcing Mary to eat when she clearly didn't want to would have undesired consequences.

"I have to go back to work now, Ms. Patricia," Mary said suddenly, standing and curtsying. "Goodbye,"

Patricia curtsied slightly herself, awkwardly still holding the bowl. A few strawberries were left so she headed inside herself, bumping into Henry.

"My lord!" She gasped in surprise. Today he wore a low-cut emerald gown that matched his eyes complete with opera gloves, so different from what he usually wore. "I haven't seen you in a while," It was a lie, but it was still meant to be pleasant. She suddenly recalled their previous night together and felt a quell of sickness in her stomach. Was that why she was suddenly switched positions? Did someone spy on them and tell Baron Whitehall or the butler of her liaisons with the future heir? But then again, she wasn't the one at fault, was she? It was all Henry's idea to sleep with her in the first place.

"It's nice to see you again, Big Sister!" He gave her a small smile, coyer than his usual ones. "Though I suppose that name is in poor taste now, huh? Since we're now lovers and all,"

"What we did last night was a spur of the moment thing, nothing more and nothing less. Even if it was enjoyable, I shall not do it again for fear of your father finding out," She responded sternly, holding the basket in her hands tightly.

"My father has to ruin everything, doesn't he?" Henry twirled around in his gown, revealing silken boots underneath, replacing his normal brown ones. "Ooooh, are those strawberries with cream?"

"Yes. Mary and I were eating them earlier, but we had to cut our time short due to her work. Would you like the rest?" She offered nicely, holding out the basket. Henry pouted a bit.

"Mary again? You always spend time with her!"

"And what is wrong with that, my lord? She is very nice and has been quite helpful to me. She has such a sad look in her eyes..."

"I'm just worried...Father already keeps us apart, you busy with your work and me with my studies...we never get to see each other like before," His eyes shimmered as he looked up at her. "It's not fair,"

"No, but it's the way life is. Do you want the food or not, my lord? I do not mind eating them with you outside,"

Henry noticeably perked up at that. "Sure!" He spun around in the gown some more as they walked outside; one of the straps nearly fell off his shoulder revealing his boyish figure. "Do you like my outfit? I found it at the bottom of my trunk, hidden away from Father's perverted, prying eyes,"

"It is quite a different look for you," Indeed, the sudden sexual nature of his outfit concerned her. Was he trying to suggest something of her? Was this part of proving to his father he was a man?

They sat down on a bench near a gazebo and bird bath, which had a few birds flitting around and about in it. Patricia put the basket in her lap and set out the cream, hoping it hadn't spoiled yet. Henry sat beside her with a bit of a sigh, catching her eye and slowly starting to pull his glove off with his teeth. She blushed and tried to glance away, but he kept at it.

"Doesn't my dress just bring out my eyes?" He asked lowly, slowly pulling the glove off successfully.

"Yes, my lord," Patricia dipped one of the strawberries in cream and offered it to Henry, who slowly took a bite, getting cream and juice over his mouth, which he slowly licked off. He dipped a finger into the cream and slowly licked that off too, eyeing Patricia as she did it. He then beamed.

"I have a fun idea! Since we're lovers now, we can get a bit creative, huh?" He eyed the cream at the same time Patricia did, then carefully looked around. He stood up and grabbed the bowl, lifting up his dress and pulling his small member out, stroking it twice before he dunked it into the cream. Patricia covered her mouth in disgust, especially as he pulled a few strawberries apart and decorated his shaft with them. "See? I'm like a dessert! Don't you want to eat me, Big Sister?" He smiled. Patricia, slightly dazed, wandered over on her knees and helped hold his skirt up, staring at his cream-covered member. The idea was gross, certainly, but at the end of the day, it was just strawberries and cream, right? He didn't do anything obscene to the food itself. And needless to say, someone could wander around and spot them, so best to hurry. Patricia scooted closer and shyly licked the tip, feeling the taste of cream surge into her mouth. Suddenly determined, she managed to fit the entire thing in her mouth, spilling cream on her lips. She licked and sucked at his member, moaning at the glorious taste of cream. Henry himself started to moan slightly, trembling from her actions.

She peeled one of the strawberries off his member and put it in her mouth, sucking him off afterwards to taste all three tastes at once in her mouth. She slowly licked her mouth off to get the cream and juice off and continued giving him a blowjob, closing her eyes. Henry moaned and trembled, biting down slightly on his finger so he wouldn't get too loud. He felt himself spasm and a small amount of semen blasted into Patricia's mouth, making her eyes widen and she pulled away. His member had been cleaned completely of the cream.

"Wasn't that fun?" He asked breathlessly, and Patricia had no choice but to nod.

*

Meanwhile, Baron Whitehall watched Mary carefully sweep his floor, noticing she was clumsier and radiated heat. Several of his servants had fallen ill with typhoid in the past week and he knew the rest of the house was concerned, wondering when they'd be next to be stricken. He watched her sweep and pulled a bottle out from inside his desk; a placebo of water.

"Mary, come over here," He commanded, and she flinched and put the broom away, slowly looking over.

"Y-Yes?"

"I heard a disease has been going around the manor. A shame, as many of my loyal workers are out of commission. You're likely worried about getting sick too, aren't you?"

"A little bit,"

"What?"

"A-A little bit!" She trembled as she stepped closer.

"This will help you. One drink of this and you will be able to fight anything off, even something like typhoid. Do you want it?" He held the bottle out to her, and suddenly, Mary reached for it rapidly, crashing into the desk and making things on it wobble.

"Yes! I want it! I-I can't miss work!" She nearly begged. Baron Whitehall smiled to himself.

"If you want this, then you need to work for it." Mary watched in horror as he drew out his member and poured the drink on top of it, but she collapsed to her knees anyway and started slowly sucking it. She felt feverish and flushed so she couldn't go as fast as she would've liked, but it was better than nothing. She slowly licked his tip and then fit most of it into her mouth, moaning slightly. "Exactly. That's all you're good for,"

Mary managed to ignored him for once as the liquid got lapped up by her tongue; not having the bitter taste she expected but it mattered little. She continued to suck until she felt his release again, gasping as it made her cheeks bulge out. She swallowed it and the Baron tossed her to the floor, making her wince. He didn't say anything for a while before he left, and Mary slowly tried to pick herself up off the floor.

"My lord?" Patricia's voice reached her, making Mary freeze. She quickly closed her legs and pulled her skirt over them, fixing her blouse just as Patricia walked in. "Mary! What are you doing?" Realization appeared on her face. "Are you...are you that maid Lord Henry says his father forces himself on?"

"W-What? Absolutely not!" Mary declined, very slowly standing up. She still felt feverish and winced when Patricia grabbed her hands; they were ice-cold in comparison. "He's not forcing himself on me...."

"Then why were you undressed?" She moved in closer. "Let's run away together, Mary. You and I. I have the means to do so. We can start a new life together, we could be teachers if you wanted. We could move to Ireland, wouldn't that be nice? Ireland with its lovely oceans and rolling hills,"

Mary slowly nodded, a smile forming on her face.

"Y-Yes...I would love that...that sounds nice..." She took her hands away and bid her friend a good night before leaving. She needed to finish her duties properly before she could rest. Unbeknownst to her, Henry had been walking down the hall to head back to bed and had hidden at the sound of voices, listening to nearly their entire conversation. He narrowed his eyes.

*

Typhoid hadn't just been limited to the servants, Patricia found out the hard way. She was currently replacing the wet cloth on Henry's head with a fresh one, watching him shudder and tremble from the depths of his fever, breathing heavily.

"I understand it hurts, my lord, but everything will be alright in just a month," She tried to reassure him, unsure if he could even hear her or not. He gasped a bit and winced, slowly opening his glassy eyes to look at her. She had very little experience with typhoid fever aside from its mere existence; evidently her father had been stricken with it and died before she was even born, but that was just what her grandmother told her.

"B-Big Sister..." He gasped, looking over at her. She gave him a weak smile, noticing how pitiful he looked. It pained her to see him like this despite everything, knowing normally he was full of energy. He rolled over slowly onto his side and she carefully readjusted the cloth. "N-Not fair...I-I want....t-to....to..."

"Just rest," Patricia said firmly, not wanting him to get upset and work himself into a frenzy and delay his healing.

"B-Big Sister..." He gasped out and suddenly sat up, grabbing Patricia's arm. She winced at how burning hot he was and looked back, getting rewarded with a kiss on her lips. "B-Big Sister...I love you...I love you so much.." He breathed before falling back into bed, closing his eyes. Patricia put a finger to her lips, running it over them. She blinked several times before she simply gathered up her bearings, leaving him there, assuming it was just the fever talking.

And indeed, it took another month for Henry to fully recover from typhoid, and even after that recovery period, he was noticeably weaker and still tended to keep to his room, though nothing stopped him from sneaking around occasionally. He spotted Patricia heading back to her room after her usual day in the laundryroom and slowly walked after her, smiling.

"Big Sister!"

"My lord!" She gasped, curtsying a bit. "You must be feeling a lot better,"

"I'm still a bit weak..." He admitted, stepping closer to her. She blushed slightly as she tried to step back only to back herself into a wall. "Maybe I'll feel better if you give me a kiss...!"

"No. I can't do such things while you're still technically recovering," She declined firmly. "Good night," She nodded politely to him after a time and dashed away, slamming her door shut and sitting with her back up against it. She placed a hand at her chest. She braced herself for a possible door-knock from Henry, but thankfully, it never came. She pulled herself off the floor after a few minutes and took a deep breath, preparing herself for bed.

*  
Henry eyed himself in the mirror, frowning as he took in the suit that had newly arrived for him. It composed of a simple grey frilly blouse, a brown vest and trousers, white stockings, and grey shoes. The vest was tight on him and the pants couldn't be loosened properly. Dresses were tight too, but the suit was a different type of tight. He ran his hands down it. He couldn't even wear any accessories with it. The absolute audacity of that man. When he had recovered fully from his bout of typhoid fever, his next task was to report to his father, who said he had a gift for him. The 'gift' ended up being a small selection of newly-tailored and just-arrived suits for him in dull colours.

"It fits you like a glove," Baron Whitehall praised, walking into his son's room. "Fits your personality as well. There are several more coming later on in the week. Once they do, I will throw out all of your old dresses. There is no need for them anymore, I do not want to catch you wearing another one."

"Mother made me those gowns, you know," Henry responded curtly, starting to leave the room.

"What Bridget did does not matter. She is dead, and better for it. I see now she spoiled and coddled you too much, you and that nanny both!"

"Hmph," Henry left the room fully, determined to absorb himself in his lessons when one of the older maids ran to him in a panic.

"Oh, my lords, please come quickly! It's a maid, one of the younger ones...they found her drowned by the river! They think it's a suicide!"

"Oh no! Take me and Big Sister there at once!" Henry commanded, a serious look on his face. The maid nodded and ran off, and soon Patricia ran to him a rush.

"Who was it? Do they know?" She asked in concern, and Henry realized she was concerned it was her little friend Mary.

The group was led to the small river near the manor where the maid's body had been already fished-out and covered respectfully with a blanket. Enough of her face was left uncovered to determine her identity and Patricia's eyes welled up with tears as she covered her mouth.

"N-No....Mary..." She gasped in sadness. Henry noticed her hair had come undone and piled around her even then, like his mother's had in her coffin. Like Ophelia's when she drowned herself yet sung and wove flowers. It was a far more fitting metaphor this time around because Mary really did drown.

"Bury her in the yard," Baron Whitehall commented before he left. Patricia collapsed to her knees, angst on her face.

"M-Mary...."

Henry slowly wrapped his arms around her. "You did everything you could for her....I'm sure she really loved having you as a friend,"

Patricia said nothing, just choked on a sob. Henry felt a small smile appear on his face.

*

Patrica gently laid some flowers on the makeshift grave they made for Mary; she had managed to convince the older maids and butler that she deserved one. She sighed a bit, her eyes dry. It had been a few weeks and though she felt deeply saddened by the loss of her only friend still, she had run out of tears to shed. She had new duties to undertake. She glanced up at the sound of footsteps.

"It's quite sad, isn't it? She had so much to live for," Henry stared strangely at the grave. Patricia nodded.

"I wonder...if what drove her to it was....the baron having his way with her," She made no attempt to hide she had figured out who it was; she figured it mattered little. "Even in spite of that, she always had such a sad look about her," She finally stood up and dusted herself off. "I wonder if my friendship made her feel even the least bit happy...now I suppose I shall never know,"

"She was just a maid, I don't understand why you cared so much for her," Henry grumbled. "You got along just fine at Mother's house,"

"Because it was just us three, but even then I longed for companionship. I was always kept busy with you however, so my thoughts didn't linger on that topic for long. But here...I realized I had a chance to make a friend. I am just a young woman, my lord," Patricia gave him a determined look briefly before it softened. "Is that a new suit of yours? I have not seen it on you before,"

"It is," Henry replied simply, disliking the conversation change. He hated the colour of the suit; a dull grey and green, but not the exciting kind of green that he loved, that matched his eyes, that Big Sister seemed to like. Instead it was a hideous colour akin to moss or poisonous diseases. It was ugly and vile and he longed to be rid of it.

"My lord, would you at least say a prayer for Mary? Even if you didn't know her...she was still a worker of yours," Patricia insisted, and Henry pouted.

"Okay, okay!" He slowly crossed himself, then smiled. "Want to take a bath with me?"

She blushed heavily at that. "My lord, I believe we are both getting too old for such activities,"

"Awww, but we're lovers now! You're my mistress, and whatever the lord says the mistress listens to!" He pouted again. "It's just a simple bath,"

Patricia hesitated, but ultimately knew that she still had to do whatever Henry asked of her, no matter her own moral obligations. So, she simply curtsied. "If you insist,"

"Yay! I knew you would say yes!" He happily took her hand and led her up the stairs, asking a maid they came across to get the bath ready for them. Once they arrived at the bathroom, already filled and steaming, Henry wasted no time in getting undressed. "We haven't taken a bath like this in a long time!"

She said nothing, slowly undressing herself but leaving her earrings in and her hair up as she slowly lowered herself into the tub with a sigh. It _did_ feel nice, she had to admit, enhanced by the smell of roses. Henry climbed in across from her and smiled, his boyish body on clear display. Patricia took the small bar of soap and started to lather herself up with it, smoothly touching her small curves and breasts to the best of her ability. Henry watched, entranced.

"You're really beautiful,"

She gasped and tried to cover herself up.

"I mean it!"

She blushed heavily and continued trying to wash herself, dunking herself back in the water. Henry tried to grab the soap from her and slipped underwater, falling and ending up right in the middle of her chest. He gave her a small smile.

"I'm so clumsy...!" He slowly trailed a finger down her body before it slowly slipped up her flower, making her moan loudly before she caught herself.

"M-My lord...!"

"Even now, you're shy?" He pouted and continued fingering her, making her tremble and blush from the pleasure. He then added two more fingers, and then stuck one up there, making her gasp at the feeling of hot water slipping inside as well. He slowly moved his fingers around before speeding up, making her tightly clutch to the sides of the bathtub. She heard the water splash lightly around them as she suddenly gasped, and Henry removed his fingers. "Now the water is all dirty!" He slowly turned her around, making her bottom exposed to the cold air.

"My lord-?" He pushed her down so her lower half was submerged in the water again but her upper half was fine, making her gasp. The water still felt pleasantly hot. "What are you doing?"

"I want to have some fun too!" Henry pouted and gently squeezed her bottom, making her bite her lip. She waited silently, tightly gripping the rim of the bathtub, before she felt water forcefully shoot up her anus and made her nearly gasp in pain.

"My lord!" She could feel him slowly thrusting with some difficulty, all while the water swirled around in her bowels. He continued to thrust carefully but rapidly, finally grabbing her bottom as he cried out in surprise and slowly pulled out, yanking her braid out at the same time. Patricia slowly turned around as the water and semen inside her anus shot out into the water, making her moan. Her hair swirled around her, a few wet strands sticking to her. The bath water was completely soiled and no longer smelled like roses, which made he slowly climb out and wrap herself in a towel to the best of her ability when another maid came in.

"Master Henry, Ms. Patricia, I believe Baron Whitehall wants to have a word with you," She said formally, and Patricia nodded.

"I will be there soon," She promised. She quickly got dressed in another presentable dress and redid her hair, heading up to Henry's father's study. Henry had arrived before her, dressed in a dull grey suit, and Baron Whitehall was there sitting at his desk, which made her curtsy formally.

"You asked for me, your grace?" She kept her eyes down.

"Yes. I understand this may come as a sudden shock to you, but you knew it was coming and I thought it over long enough. Tonight, I want you gone. Please pack up your things and leave," He said sternly, making both her and Henry gasp.

"Please, sir, so soon? My friend offed herself just a few weeks ago, please allow me a bit of time to recover-!" He stood up and walked over to her, making her step back.

"I do not understand why you must recover in my house. There is nothing left for you here. My son has outgrown your care."

"I...I have nowhere else to go. Sir, you must give me a list of references, and some money,"

"Did my wife give you nothing of the sort?"

"She was not thinking of letting me go, sir,"

"Do not talk back to me!" Baron Whitehall raised his hand and slapped Patricia across the face, making her fall.

"Ah!" She cried out, hitting the floor hard.

"Father! How dare you!" Henry scolded, trying to run over to her side before the baron blocked his path.

"How dare _me_? How dare _you_! You are my sole heir, yet you have refused to take responsibility for anything! You harbor feelings for that woman, don't you?" His father stared him down.

"I am just trying to help her up, Father! She is just a nanny, but she's cared for me far more than you ever have!"

"Go to your room, I will deal with you when I am done with her," The baron seethed. Henry gave him a dirty look before he hurried off, leaving Patricia on the floor.

"I mean it. Get out. I want you gone by tomorrow morning. And if I find out you spoke to my son at any point during that time, I will do far worse than kick you out. Do you understand?" The baron grabbed Patricia's chest, bringing her to his level. She nodded slowly. "What even is this, a brooch? Where did you get it?" He tugged on it.

"Please sir,"

"Did my son give you that as some sort of lover's token? Hm? Is that it?" He ripped it off her blouse, leaving several hanging strings. He threw her to the ground and tossed the brooch down in front of her. "Only someone who loves their nanny lustfully would give them such gifts,"

"I..I bought it. With some money the late baroness gave me-"

"Did I ask?" He brought his foot down and stomped on the brooch, making it crack and shatter. Patricia felt her eyes widen in horror.

"It was cheap regardless," He took another step towards her, but Patricia managed to sit up and scoot away a bit further. "Now, do I need to repeat my previous order?"

She shook her head fearfully.

"Do I?"

"No sir...I understand completely," She hanged her head and stood up slowly, giving him a weak curtsy before she walked out of the office. Once she was confident she was no longer being watched, she took off running, sobbing once she arrived in her room.

Being thrown out of the Baron Whitehall's manor...to go where? She had no references to use to get another job, and no money to speak of. The only jewelry she still had on her person were her pearl stud earrings, but she was unsure of what price they'd even fetch, if anything. She tossed her few changes of clothing into her small bag and rubbed her eyes.

She thought of the late baroness, Bridget Whitehall, and how kind and caring she had been to the two of them. After her grandparents died in an accident, Patricia had been thrown out of the house and left to wander, despite only being six. She had seen the horrors of life on the street and didn't known which life she dreaded more, that one or factory work. However, she caught Bridget's attention when she tried to steal a sandwich and tripped in the gutter, falling and dirtying herself. Patricia had sat there in bewilderment, staring at her sandwich, tears forming in her eyes, when suddenly Bridget reached out a hand.

"You may be young, but I need servants. I have recently moved out to my husband's country manor and need kind-hearted servants...are you one?"

Patricia had hardly understood an actual word but found she didn't need to. She gratefully took Bridget's hand and became her maid. At first she did odd jobs until Bridget became pregnant and delivered her first and only child; Henry. Patricia watched over the baby in his cradle from day one, sometimes falling asleep beside it and always rocking it gently if he started to fuss. Bridget found her devotion to be adorable.

Bridget was a kind and sweet woman, providing for their needs in any way she could. Patricia recalled what Henry said once about how he believed his father hadn't even loved her. Looking back, she wondered if that were the truth and not just spiteful lies said in the heat of the moment. They didn't live together and Henry was their only child, and she had barely heard the baron's name even whispered in the halls. Her suddenly falling down the stairs came as a shock and surprise to everyone. She was a graceful woman, always light on her feet, and liked to go down the stairs two steps at a time. Perhaps that was her undoing, but she never seemed unbalanced when doing it before. Henry said during funeral preparations that he received a letter from his father about the death, which basically called his former wife an 'ignorant whore who practically deserved it'.

Yet Patricia found herself wondering.

Same with Mary. Mary, the sweet maid who was her friend for a short while. Her eyes were sad and she was taken advantage of horribly by the baron, yet she never seemed the type to just...off herself. In fact, she even agreed to Patricia's suggestion of running off to Ireland; it was the first time she had ever seen a genuine light in her eyes, so why did she suddenly kill herself so quickly afterwards? She enjoyed her company.

And on another level, Patricia found in a small way, she agreed with the baron. Henry was far too old for a nanny and she'd just distract him going forward. Not to mention their very erotic escapades as of late. Highly inappropriate for anyone involved. No, it was for the best. She'd get a job as a school teacher somewhere in Ireland, and he'd get betrothed to a different girl, a nice girl, one who was closer in age to him. In a way, it was good that she was leaving now.

"Big Sister?" Henry asked curiously, peeking his head in her room. She shook her head at him.

"Please, my lord, please leave and go back to your room. If your father catches us together, even speaking, he will punish us greater," She folded her hands in front of her.

"He broke that brooch Mother bought you," He noticed in disdain. "I don't think he ever truly loved Mother, you know. They didn't even live together. I think he hated her,"

Patricia remained silent as Henry stepped closer. It was nothing she hadn't heard before, but he seemed somehow angrier.

"I don't think he's ever truly loved anyone in his life. Not his wife, and certainly not me. Have you not seen the way he's treated me while I've been under his roof? He is an absolute and utter menace," He stood on his tiptoes. "And that maid, Mary? I've known for a while now he liked to have his way with her. The few times he visited my mother, it was the same," He had a brief memory of being unable to sleep when he was younger and thus wandering around the house, hearing strange noises and curiously peeking through an open door, only to widen his eyes in horror at what he saw; his father clearly raping his mother, though it would be a few years before he fully processed the extent of what he was seeing. "That is why I came to see you, to give you something. I cannot bare the thought of my dear older sister all alone out there, starving on the streets!"

"My lord-" She started to protest as he slipped several necklaces and rings out of his pocket, all tangled-up together.

"They were Mother's. I often wore them with my gowns before, but you need them more than I do now," He started to carefully slide them into her bag. "Father burned all of my gowns anyhow. Can you believe that? Burned them and forced me to watch,"

"He...is an utterly despicable man," Patricia offered. She didn't wish to speak ill of a noble higher than her, but she was about to leave. And he had thrown her out with nothing! She felt as though her hate was justified. "Thank you, my lord, for caring so much. I hope whomever you take as a bride in the future will receive as much love and care as you showed to me," She grabbed her bag and offered him a smile. "Goodbye,"

"Wait!" Henry called out, stepping closer to her and standing on his tiptoes again. Before Patricia could properly react, he had pushed himself onto her and given her a passionate kiss. She felt her eyes widen in shock as he started to close his own. Not sure what else to do, she kissed him back, still stunned. He pulled back briefly. "No...Big Sister...silly..you're supposed to close your eyes when a man kisses you! Has all our time together taught you nothing?" He smiled in a mischievous way as he started to kiss her again, wrapping his arms around her neck. She placed her own on his waist.

"What is going on in here!?" A gruff voice demanded hotly, and Patricia pulled away in horror to see the baron himself standing in the doorway of her room, glaring at her. "You temptress! Not only do you blatantly disobey my orders to leave as soon as possible, but now I find that you have seduced my son as well?" He stepped closer.

"Sir, wait, I can explain-" He pushed the couple apart and pushed her into the wall.

"And you! My only son, actually fell for this she-devil's tricks? I had faith in you, but now...no. You have proven to me time and time again that you are unfit to be my heir. I was going to be kind and let your nanny off lightly, but not anymore." He started to reach into his sleeve.

"Father, please, you don't understand!" Henry started to beg. "I love her, way more than I ever loved you! You hate everyone in your life and treat them like garbage! Big Sister and I are going to run away forever, without your help!" He suddenly silenced when he witnessed his father pull out a pistol and aim it straight at Patricia. "Wait, no! Don't shoot her!"

"This will be the only way you will learn, I suppose. You love her so much, fine. Watch her die then!"

"Sir, please! This is too much!" Patricia cried as he placed his finger on the trigger.

"Leave this house forever, temptress! I will not have my son seduced by the likes of your kind ever again!" The baron declared. Patricia squeezed her eyes shut, terrified.

But the gunshot never came.

Instead, she briefly opened her eyes to witness both the gun and Baron Whitehall falling to the floor; the gun clattered loudly, the baron had a knife stuck into his back. Blood poured from his wound, and she remained silent as Henry walked over, yanking the knife out harshly from his father's back. Blood spurted out onto his face. He gave Patricia an off-it smile.

"Sorry that Father ended up being so disagreeable. I genuinely thought he'd let you leave without any fuss," He sighed dramatically, throwing the bloody knife to the floor with another clatter. "But I had to dispose of him myself. Such a shame. Oh well." He got on his knees in front of her, smirking when she trembled in horror from the blood. He grabbed her cheek, leaving a bloody handprint there. "Now we can be together forever...exactly as I planned it to be," He kissed her.

"H-How...? What? What do you mean, you planned all of this?" She swallowed back the title at the last second. He did not deserve her formality now. She suddenly felt ill in general and clutched at her stomach.

"Do you genuinely believe everything that's happened was mere coincidence? You're silly...little did you know, Mother planned to send you off to some silly etiquette school as a tutor. Somewhere in Ireland because she thought you would appreciate your home country. But she never considered my feelings on the matter!" He smirked a bit as he sighed. "So...I killed her."

*

_"Henry! Henry!" Bridget called out, finding her son standing near the stairs. He wore a lacy pale green dress with a nice white bow tied around his waist._

_"Yes Mother?" He blinked curiously, a big bow in his hair._

_"Henry, darling, will you be a peach and please go get my sewing kit from downstairs? I think I left it near the kitchen entrance," She smiled sweetly. "I need to finish that sweet yellow dress for you for the summer!"_

_"Alright," He nodded slowly and turned around, making his green skirts swish. "Does Big Sister really have to go....?"_

_"I know how much you two care for each other, but your father is a very strict man. He would not approve in the slightest of you having a nanny at your age," Bridget sighed. "Besides, it'll be for the best. You can always send letters to her, and it'll be good for her as well. She'll get to meet some friends her own age," She walked over to the stairs and gave her son a hug._

_Henry suddenly stiffened and felt his features darken as he wrestled out of his mother's grip, shoving her away and towards the stairs._

_"H-Henry-!" She cried out in shock as she stumbled, tripping over the carpet and losing her balance further, slipping and hitting the ground. He smiled to himself as he saw how her neck bent at an odd angle and all of the blood pouring from her. Despite his joy, the more childish side of his brain took hold as his eyes flooded with tears and he felt woozy at the gory sight._

_"Big Sister is mine..."_

*

"And your stupid maid friend?" Henry continued, ignoring the tears streaming down Patricia's face. "Killed her too. I saw how close you two were getting to each other...that wasn't right! You two were going to leave me behind!"

*

_Henry stood at the banks of the river, smiling at he watched Mary struggle for breath just underneath the surface. Her skirts were heavy enough, but he made sure to knock all further resistance out of her by pushing her in using a large plank of wood. It was tough since he still felt sick from typhoid fever, but his determination and love pushed him through._

_"P-Please, help me out...young lord!" She gasped in agony before suddenly slipping down further into the water._

_"Big Sister is mine...only mine!" He cried out, stepping away from the water. She was always so sad...with any luck, they'd rule it as a suicide and never question anyone further. Perfect. It was what she deserved for making impromptu plans to run away with her and become a teacher in Ireland. Ireland, what was so interesting about that country anyway? He always thought of poor immigrants who lived off potatoes and had thick, annoying accents. Patricia had a lovely accent though, pure and untainted by Irish tongues. She spoke English so fluidly, probably because she was born in the British Empire and not Ireland. He smiled to himself._

*

"Don't you see? Don't you understand? I did all of this for you! You can live with me together forever, and be happy! We can live in a big white mansion together, with a nice rose garden out back, and it'll just be you and I, together forever!" Henry cried, burying his face in her chest again. "Why won't you be happy? Why aren't you happy?!"

"Henry..." Patricia managed to gasp out, feeling the blood soak into her clothes. "You...you are a very deranged boy, every inch the same as your father." She said bluntly before she finally choked in surprise and vomited into her lap from the overwhelming iron smell. She pulled Henry close to her, feeling him snuggle closer.

They were still embracing each other when the police found them later, covered in blood. They ruled it as a tag-team murder and hauled them away.

*

Patricia looked up at the wrought-iron gate and the sign above it, knowing it was the right place. Due to her criminal record; false in her mind but correct for all Scotland Yard knew, she had a hard time finding work and often sold things she made on the corners of streets; crotchet items and flowers were among her most popular and successful choices. She shivered in the late-autumn wind; a few snow flakes were on it and she knew she was in for a cold and miserable night. She wore a thin grey dress with a ragged brown shawl over it she sewed hastily in a hurry that she never properly finished. She had cut her long hair into a short bob style she found cute despite how unfashionable it currently was. She tightened her grip on the basket and mustered up the last of her courage and walked inside the gate, walking up the stairs to the front door.

"Name?" The guard standing there eyed her wearily. "You a sister or niece?"

"Neither," She looked up at the building; dull cracked brick with black dusty windows. A miserable-looking place, but it suited him in the end. Due to how young he was, as well as his noble prestige, the court decided to let him off easy and just force him to attend a boys' correctional facility until he came of age.

"Who are you here to see?"

"Lord Henry Whitehall," She gestured to the basket she was holding. "This has some of his favourite desserts in there. Be sure he gets it. And if not, find a cool place to store it. I don't want the strawberries and cream especially to spoil,"

"We'll see," The guard took the basket from her and she curtsied to the best of her ability, sighing and placing a steadying hand on her heavy baby belly. She would be due in a month or two, she was sure of it. "Pardon me for being nosy, it's certainly none of my business, but why do you care for him so much? He is a deranged criminal. Why do you bother to love him?"

Patricia headed down the steps, not bothering to look back. She answered his question almost instantly.

"Because nobody else ever did," Was all she said, and then she walked off.


End file.
